


with your head upon my shoulder

by dansmithism



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Don't Read This, F/M, Fluff, Forgive Me, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansmithism/pseuds/dansmithism
Summary: dan comes home from tour: a dumb thing.





	with your head upon my shoulder

**Author's Note:**

> I dooooooon't knoooooow what this iiiiiiiis but it came out of my braiiiiiiin. 
> 
> sorry for the suck, yeah?

Those eyes are intense; it feels as though they were burning a hole into your very soul. He seems to be quietly angry about something, but without him outright saying so, it’s impossible to tell what sort of thoughts are running through his head. He doesn't move, simply hovers there, watching you, those blue eyes not once breaking contact with yours.

Eventually, he slowly tilts his head and allows for a small, barely visible smile to grace his tired face. A relieved sigh escapes you, unable to swallow it down. He wasn't angry, simply watching as you moved from the other end of the room to greet him. 

“Hello.” He says, finally taking a few steps forward, meeting you in the middle of the room. 

“Hi.” You manage, bringing up a weak smile of your own as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close, embracing you. His scent is irresistible and strong. His touch makes something shiver up your spine, but you manage to ignore it as you allow your head to rest comfortably against his shoulder for a few moments.

“Have you been good?” He asks, a deep sincerity in his tone as his hand rests itself against the small of your back.

“Yes, sir.” You breathe, not daring to hesitate. He pulls back somewhat and brings your head up so that he can meet your gaze. There's a tense hesitation as he searches your eyes, trying to find something that would encourage him into believing that your reply is a lie. His smile stretches, just ever so slightly as he decides to believe you, a faint look of proud satisfaction appearing across his face.

“Good girl.” He praises before placing a tender kiss against your forehead, making your body tense a little. Hearing him praise you like that, it sends a rush of happiness through your nervous system and sends your mind swimming. Having him reward you with something as simple as that kiss makes it hard to resist the urge to jump his bones. He has you well trained, it seems, but you don't allow that thought to bother you much. You’re much too busy taking in his features after months of not seeing them this close.

“On your knees.” He commands in such a way that you can't help but obey, lowering yourself before him and glancing up at him with wide, anticipating eyes. He doesn't vocally praise you this time, only smiles and gives you another sweet kiss against the forehead before turning his attention to the bedroom door, locking it to make sure that you can't be disturbed. “Have you missed me, darlin’?” He asks, running a hand through his dark hair as he makes his return to you. 

“Yes, sir.” You nod, briefly closing your eyes as he places a careful finger beneath your chin and gently forces your head up. “So much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” He confesses, lowering himself so that he can kiss your lips. There's a small taste of sweetness as he kisses you that makes you desperate for him to deepen it, to continue, but you manage to compose yourself as he pulls away. “I would think of you, y’know, while I was lying in my bunk.” He pauses to search your eyes again. “While I was in that bus. It was lonely without you beside me.”

“Was it, sir?” You ask, curious as to what else he thought about while he was touring. Curiouser still as to what other feelings passed through him as he thought of you whenever you were apart.

“Mhm,” he nods, “it was agony, some nights, not having you there, lying next to me with your head on my shoulder. Keeping me warm.”

“You won't be lonely anymore, sir.” A more confident smile stretches across your face as you reassure him.

“No, I won't.” He agrees, matching your expression, before kissing your lips a second time.

“Or cold.” You add with a quiet giggle. 

“No, nor cold.” He laughs, slowly and gently nudging his nose against yours. Making him laugh felt good, it always did, but having him reward you with subtle little forms of affection felt better. 

“Wait here.” He softly commands, kissing your cheek before he pulls away completely and moves away from you. Suddenly, without him being so close, you feel vulnerable. Suddenly, without him being there, you feel helpless. All you can do is watch as he goes about his business; removing his jacket, setting his suitcase aside to be unpacked later, kicking off his shoes and moving toward the bed. You know that if you moved from this spot, that he would be forced to give you punishment for disobeying him, but, in that moment, you’re desperate to turn and face him. You become desperate to hear the order that would allow you to crawl up onto the bed with him. You crave that softly spoken command that would allow you to look at him again. “[Y/N]?” Your body twitches, aches, at his use of your name, an involuntary action that could not be trained out of you, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Yes, sir?” 

“Come here.” He says, finally giving you what you had been craving. You immediately do as you are told, getting up off of the floor and making your way over to his spot at the end of the bed. You make eye contact with those intense blues of his again and try hard not to let out a sigh. “That's my girl.” He beams, placing a hand against your cheek. You lean into his touch, allowing yourself to enjoy how it feels against your skin. “Get on the bed, and… Just this once, you can call me by my proper name.” He tells you, leaning in to whisper against your ear. “I’ve missed hearing you say it.”

“Yes… Dan.” It feels odd, at first, but you still feel honoured to be given permission to say his name out loud for the first time in what feels like years. 

“That's better.” He happily sighs, watching you as you climb onto the bed and crawl to one side of it. He can't help but keep that stupid grin on his face as he watches you make yourself perfectly comfortable, lying back against the pillows and shuffling down a little, before he decides to join you. 

You wait for him to make himself comfortable before he turns to look at you and uses a lazy hand gesture instead of a verbal command for you to snuggle yourself closer to him. As soon as your head makes contact with his shoulder, and as soon as your hand rests itself against his chest, his arm snakes itself around you and he gives you a gentle squeeze, followed a sweet little kiss on the top of your head. 

“Dan?” Your second attempt at saying his name comes out smoother than the last. He hums in response, moving his hand so that it could bury itself in your hair. “Did you have fun?” You ask, looking up at him, only just about able to ignore the sensation of his finger lacing through your hair.

He blinks, then fixes his gaze on you. “Fun?” He seems somewhat confused. 

“On tour?” You offer, unable to stop yourself from pulling up an amused sort of expression in response to his own. 

“Oh!” He says with a laugh at his own expense, having let the pieces fit together properly. “No, yeah, it was pretty fun, yeah.” He nods as if he was enthusiastically agreeing with himself.

“Good,” you giggle, tracing patterns against his chest, “I'm glad.”


End file.
